


Little Victories

by eratothemuse



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, No Romance, Other, Platonic Relationships, Sister!Malia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 11:24:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16973712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eratothemuse/pseuds/eratothemuse
Summary: Imagine finding out you're Malia's sister.





	Little Victories

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the Imagine: Imagine finding out you're Malia's sister.  
> This was a request for anon.  
> \- Meg <3 xx

“Say something,” you plead, voice low as you take in the girl’s reaction.  
She runs a hand through her brown locks, brow furrowed in a troubled manner as she replies, “What do you want me to say?”

“I don’t know,” you fiddle with the edge of your sleeve, “Something that lets me know you don’t hate the idea of us being sisters, maybe?”

Malia sighs, straightening herself as she fixes you with a look, “Of course I don’t hate the idea. It’s just shocking, is all. That must be it. I’m in shock.”

“You know when I teased you about Peter being your dad?” you give your friend an awkward smile, seeing the recognition in her eyes as you continue, “Maybe this is karma’s way of biting me in the ass about it.”

That gets the smile you wanted from her. Anything to let you feel less strange about the revelation that you were actually related to the werecoyote that had grown to be your friend. Maybe if you’d let Lydia come with you like she’d wanted to, for moral support, breaking the news that the pack’s resident banshee had figured out you shared a parent or two with Malia would have gone better. As it were, the news had induced a shocking silence. Not just from Malia, but you, too.

“At least I know who my parents are, I guess,” Malia sighs again, this one seeming longer than the last as she moves to sit beside you on the bottom of the porch steps. “Lydia doesn’t even know which one you’re related to me by, yet, huh?”

You groan at the memory of what Lydia had said of your parentage, “Well, she says its like a fog. And you know how these banshee things are with Lydia. They come when they want to in however much they want to. She said that all she knows for sure is that you and I are sisters. She doesn’t even know if I’m a Hale or not. It could have been the Desert Wolf only, or Peter only, or the two of them.” Elbows on your knees, you find yourself resting your head in your hands, “I hate feeling like this. Like I don’t even know who I am.”

“Tell me about it,” you feel Malia’s hand on your back, an awkward gesture that becomes more comforting when you both relax a bit towards each other, “but at least we’re both not alone in this. You’ve got a sister, and I guess I do, now, too.”

“Little victories, huh?”

She laughs, “Little victories.” The two of you are quiet for a while after that. Sitting on the Tate’s front porch steps and watching the occasional car go by, Malia’s coyote hearing picking up even the tiniest of sounds on this deceptively peaceful afternoon. Looking back, you realize it was the calm before the storm.  
It’s her voice that breaks the silence that’s once again fallen between the two of you, “Are you going to see him?”

You look at her questioningly, but her eyes don’t leave the car that’s just driven past. Even without her elaborating, you know who she means. You’d always seemed to have a synergy that way.

“And trek down to the creepiest insane asylum-slash-supernatural prison in the world?” you scoff, catching the tail lights of the same car as you look back to the road. “I think I’ll pass.”

“Well, if you ever change your mind,” Malia purses her lips in the dissatisfaction of what she was about to admit, “Peter always knows more than he lets on. He might know something about you.” You just nod, taking in the annoying truth as she breathes, “And you wouldn’t have to go down there alone. I mean, the pack is always there for you, but I am, too, (y/n).”

“Thanks, Malia,” you give her a thankful smile, reaching beside you to take her into a hug that’s more relaxed than you’d expected.

* * *

In about two weeks you would find yourself standing back on that porch. A few boards Mr. Tate hadn’t yet gotten around to fixing creaking under your feet as you shifted your weight nervously. Lydia had come up with little to nothing more than what she’d originally found out of you and Malia, and you had to admit, you wanted to know more of who you were.

Malia was the one who answered the door. Predictably, seeing as around this time of day, Mr. Tate was usually at work. She gives you a quirk to her head at your unexpected visit.

“Hey? We didn’t have plans, did we?” she asks, since she sometimes would forget you were getting together if you made plans a few weeks ahead of time.

“Not really,” the board beneath your feet creaks again with the shift of your weight to your left boot, “I hate to admit it, but you’re right about Peter. He does always seem to know more than he’s letting on.”

She raises a brow, “Yeah?”

“Maybe it’s time he receives his first visitors, if you’re game to come with me?”

“What a sister’s for,” Malia smirks, giving a nod back inside the house, “ besides, I wanted to get out of Calculus homework anyway. Let me just grab my bag.”


End file.
